


If You'd Have Me

by GoldenSparrow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek builds a house, Disabled Character, Dragons, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Major Character Injury, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24561175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenSparrow/pseuds/GoldenSparrow
Summary: “Stiles, I told you, you’re not getting near that dragon.  Do you not realize how dangerous it is?!”  He’s aware that he’s screaming but he can’t help himself, “What am I going to do if you die?”The last question isn’t supposed to come out so quiet or so sad but it does and Stiles looks at him with eyes full of hurt and concern for Derek, “I’m not going to die, Sourwolf, I’ll have you guys backing me up to distract him.  Everything is going to be fine ok?  Lydia hasn’t felt anything, too, so that’s a good omen.”Derek has a bad feeling about this, even if Lydia doesn’t.  He can’t afford to lose anyone else he cares about, and he does care about Stiles, more than he will admit even to himself.  He doesn’t think he could handle anything happening to that boy, who’s still so full of life, even after everything he’s endured.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 6
Kudos: 206





	If You'd Have Me

There’s a dragon in the preserve. A real honest to god, fire breathing dragon. Well, maybe, the fire breathing part was yet to be determined. Isaac and Derek are the ones to spot it on their evening run and to say he was shocked would be an understatement.

“Derek, are you seeing this too?” Isaac was staring straight ahead, looking like he’d just been clubbed over the head, “Because I’m pretty sure that’s a dragon.”

The creature whips its tail and knocks over a large tree like it hadn’t been firmly rooted to the ground for the last forty years. Derek thinks he must be dreaming because his mom never mentioned anything about dragons. They were just fairytale stories, nothing more. Except...except they were more than that, because here he was staring at a red, two story tall beast whose teeth were probably the size of Derek’s forearm.

“We need to get back to the house and tell the others,” Derek said, “I don’t want it to still be lurking around when it gets hungry. We need to get rid of it.”

Isaac calls the pack and it’s only maybe five minutes after the two of them get home that the others show up. Scott and Allison show up together, then Erica and Boyd, then Lydia and Jackson, and finally Stiles. He would never admit it to the others, but something in him relaxes when Stiles walks through the door. The boy was a force to be reckoned with and if anyone was going to solve their problems it would be him.

“Alright, so what are we talking about,” Stiles pulls a notebook from his backpack and grabs a pen from the table, “I need specifics, high color, size, did it seem intelligent or more animal like, come on now, I need it all.”

His pen is hovering over the paper, ready to get to work when his beta starts recounting their experience, “Um, ok so it was red and really tall but also really skinny, kind of like when kids get their first growth spurt and look all gangly and knobby. I don’t know how smart it was, Derek and I stayed way back where it couldn’t see us and it was kind of just sitting there. It’s tail hit a tree, though, and completely ripped it from the dirt, it was crazy.”

“Right, right, ok,” The cap of the pen is in his mouth and something in Derek feels warm at the sight and chooses not to pursue that train of thought, “I can work with this.”

And then he’s gone, making a beeline for the study where he will inevitably stay until he figures a solution. Derek will have to bring him food or he’ll forget to eat. Derek didn’t mind taking care of him though, he was helping the pack after all. Or at least, Derek told himself that was the reason.

The others stayed through dinner, sprawling out at Derek’s dining room table. It was nice. Stiles had convinced him to finally fix up his old house, instead of living in his rundown hovel of a loft, fifteen minutes across town. He’d nagged and nagged until Derek finally gave in. 

“You deserve nice things, dude.” and when that didn’t work, “Derek, do you know how much time it takes out of my day, having to drive back and forth between the preserve, my house, school, and the loft?” 

He wants to say he built this house for himself, but deep down he knows who he really built it for. It’s not that Derek didn’t want a house, he just didn’t do things for himself, not really. And even if he’d built it for Stiles, he’d still done it. 

Stiles had planted a seed, however, and when it was all said and done and he could look up at his new house, big enough for the pack, Derek thought, maybe he did deserve nice things.

\---

The rest of the pack had left an hour ago but Stiles was still going strong in the study. Derek prepared a bowl of the stew they’d eaten for dinner and waved it in front of his face, making sure Stiles saw it, before placing it on the table next to him.

“Have you found anything?” Derek places a hand on the dark wood and leans forward to see. If he just happens to lean close to Stiles, well, that’s just happenstance.

“A little, there’s a lot about dragons but it’s all mythology. Like, even the beastiary is uncertain about the actual existence of dragons but the common consensus is that they don’t come from this universe, but pass through rips in time and space. Which is fucking wild.”

His hands flail as he talks, hitting Derek more than once; Derek can’t feel anything but fond about it. “Ok, so let’s say that’s true. How do we get it back to its own plane of existence?”

“Good fucking question, compadre.” Stiles picks up one of the oldest looking books and flips through it, “So I think I found a couple possible spells, but all of them involve me getting close enough to physically place the spell on the dragon.”

“No.”

“Derek, you didn’t even consider it!”

“I don’t need to consider it. Find a different spell, you’re not getting near that thing.” Stiles opens his mouth, most likely to make a comment about how he wasn’t some weak fragile human they needed to protect, “We’re not arguing about it. You try and get to that dragon and I will personally tie you down.”

“Ooh, kinky.” It seems like the comment was a knee jerk reaction because as soon as Stiles says it he’s looking up at Derek with wild, panicked eyes and a blush to rival Derek’s own. He doesn’t apologize though, or take it back and Derek gets a weird feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach.

He straightens up and walks to the door of the study, trading one last look with Stiles to reiterate, “No touching the dragon. Please.”

Stiles eyebrows raise at the please but Derek ignores it and it exits into his larger than necessary living room. The thought of Stiles getting close enough to the dragon was terrifying, he’d seen the teeth on that thing. It hadn’t been acting aggressively when they’d stumbled across it, but he’d seen the dragon fell a tree with an unconcerned swipe of the tail, he didn’t know what it could do when it felt threatened. 

He watched tv for a few hours, nursing the sinking feeling in his gut that Stiles was going to try anyways. There was no denying that Stiles wasn’t weak, far from it actually with his newly discovered magical abilities, but he wasn’t invincible. He wouldn’t heal like the rest of them if he got hurt and that was a thought that Derek couldn’t stomach.

He went to check on Stiles again, see if he found anything that wouldn’t put him in mortal danger and found the boy asleep on the latest book he’d been perusing. He looked so peaceful that Derek was loath to wake him, so he scooped him up instead and carried him up to his room. The entire pack had their own rooms in the house but he’d given Stiles the biggest, only rivaled by Isaac’s and Derek’s own. Maybe he’d been playing favorites a little, but the rest of the pack didn’t need to know.

Besides, Stiles was Derek’s second. Not that anyone was aware of the fact.

He took the kids shoes off and tucked him in under the downy comforter, running a shaking hand through Stiles hair before heading into his own room. He dreamed of Stiles being eaten by a burning creature with teeth bigger than Derek’s arm.

\---

A day and a half later Stiles had an answer, the perfect spell. Derek hated it. 

“Stiles, I told you, you’re not getting near that dragon. Do you not realize how dangerous it is?!” He’s aware that he’s screaming but he can’t help himself, “What am I going to do if you die?”

The last question isn’t supposed to come out so quiet or so sad but it does and Stiles looks at him with eyes full of hurt and concern for Derek, “I’m not going to die, Sourwolf, I’ll have you guys backing me up to distract him. Everything is going to be fine ok? Lydia hasn’t felt anything, too, so that’s a good omen.”

Derek has a bad feeling about this, even if Lydia doesn’t. He can’t afford to lose anyone else he cares about, and he does care about Stiles, more than he will admit even to himself. He doesn’t think he could handle anything happening to that boy, who’s still so full of life, even after everything he’s endured.

The others are on board though, and Derek is the Alpha but he’s outvoted. He knows that his betas will go regardless of what he says, they listened to Stiles, sometimes more than they listened to Derek sometimes. He might as well be there to make sure they don’t kill themselves. To make sure Stiles doesn’t kill himself.

They go looking for the dragon that night. They stay in a group at Derek’s insistence and it takes them longer but they do find the dragon. He’s gotten further into the preserve, thankfully away from the town. It doesn’t make their job any easier though.

The creature's ruby head was swinging side to side and he’s keened slightly, as if scared. It reminds him of a very big, very scary dog. They flank around the dragon’s front while Stiles and Allison get behind, ready to stick the Stiles’ spell on any part of the dragon he could reach. If it works it should transfer the creature back to its own dimension immediately. Stiles said it would simply poof out of existence, wham bam, thank you, ma’am.

Stiles right about the dragon poofing out of existence, and Derek is right about Stiles getting hurt.

They’re all trying to distract the creature, dodging claws and teeth and flame when he sees Stiles sneak out from the woods and aim for the dragon’s leg. His arm is outstretched when the dragon seems to realize there’s someone behind it and turns, grabbing Stiles in its mouth before anyone can react.

Derek’s stomach drops out of his asshole when he hears Stiles’ blood curdling scream. The dragon has him by the leg and is swinging him side to side through the air, hot steam curling from its mouth. Allison is shooting at it ineffectively, the betas clawing at the scales and bouncing off, when Derek spots the spell lying on the floor. He scoops it up, dodging the tail and hopes with all his might that it will work without him having a single drop of magical ability.

It works.

Stiles falls from the sky and Derek moves, faster than he ever has in his life, to catch him. He’s still awake when he thumps into Derek’s arms but his eyes are unfocused and little moans of pain break free from his throat. He barely sees the burns and the leg hanging off at a weird angle before he’s up and running.

He makes it to the hospital in five minutes flat but it's still too slow. He burst through the doors of the emergency room, screaming for someone to help him, for anyone to help him. He almost tries to fight off the nurses in a fit of panic when they reach for Stiles,but gets his head back on quick enough. Then Ms McCall is there somehow, with a teary face, wrapping Derek up in a hug.

“It’s ok now, he’s gonna be ok, we’ll take good care of him.” 

The gurney has already disappeared and he feels a little better, if only from knowing that Stiles was being taken care of. All he could do now was sit and wait.

\---

It takes almost a full day but finally, Stiles is out of surgery. The Sheriff had shown up not even ten minutes after they’d rushed Stiles away. They’d been waiting together ever since, sitting in a silence full of despair. He’d told the rest of the pack to stay home, that Stiles wouldn’t be able to see anyone for an indeterminate amount of time and even then only Stiles’ dad would be allowed in, so it would be best for them to clean up and get some rest.

When a nurse comes to announce that the Sheriff can go in and sit with his son until he wakes up, John asks, “Derek can come too?”

The nurse gets a nervous look, like she doesn’t want to argue with the town Sheriff but says, “I’m sorry sir, only family is allowed in Intensive Care.”

“Derek is family.” He said it so simply, like it was just an accepted fact. They walked together to the room and then there he was, looking so small in his bed.

Derek wanted to cry. He’d known Stiles was hurt, he’d seen it happen first hand, had carried him to this hospital in his arms. Seeing it here though, in this quiet, sterile setting, it was too much. Here he could see just how truly broken Stiles was. There were bandages covering much of Stiles skin and he knew they were there to protect burns from the open air.

And then- and then there was that flat space where Stiles left leg should be. The doctor had told them that he’d lost it, but it hit him differently seeing it first hand. He knew that Stiles would be almost good as new with a prosthetic and some physical therapy, but there was no telling how it would affect his psyche. His mental health had taken such a hit with the nogitsune he hated to imagine how badly he could possibly handle this.

Derek and the Sheriff both grabbed a seat and settled in to wait some more and before he knew it he was falling into the deep abyss of sleep. He was woken up by a feeling of panic and realized it was not his own.

“Dad?” Stiles sounded terrified and the Sheriff was on him like a flash.

“Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?”

“Everything-” His voice was rough and he cleared his throat weakly, “Everything hurts, Daddy. My leg, it’s on fire.”

Stiles' breaths were getting quicker and quicker, his heartbeat ratcheting up and the Sheriff took his hand, smoothing back his son's hair. “I’m right here buddy, it’s going to be ok. I’m right here.”

His words meant nothing when Stiles reached down to touch his leg and his hand slapped hard on the bed, having met no resistance. He was hyperventilating now, “Dad, Daddy, my leg. But it hurts, it really hurts.”

His voice was loud, raised in his panic and finally, a nurse rushed in, cleanly pricking Stiles with a needle and guiding him back to a lying position gently, “Sleep now honey, it’s all gonna be okay.”

Derek felt whiplashed, not even three minutes had passed, yet so much had happened. Stiles' panic had caused Derek’s own chest to constrict and he focused on taking deep breaths. John was still standing by Stiles’ bed but the boy was sleeping once more. He had his son’s hand in his own and pressed it to his mouth.

The Sheriff's shoulders were rising and falling in silent sobs and Derek said, “Sir, Stiles is the strongest person I know. He’s going to make it through this.”

It came out sounding braver than he felt but he knew it was the truth, Stiles was stubborn and a fighter if anyone of them had a shot at surviving this it would be Stiles.

\---

Stiles had woken up twice more before he actually stayed awake. He was fully lucid now, moved to a sitting position in the bed with an uncomfortable look on his face. He hadn’t complained about his leg hurting again but he kept giving the spot where his leg should be perplexed looks, like it still hadn’t sunk in.

He’d been silent for a long while since he’d woken up but now he looked at Derek and said, “Did we get it? Is it gone?”

Derek gives a little snort, because of course he’s still worrying about everyone else, “Yes, Stiles, we got it.”

“Good, because not gonna lie I’d be pretty peeved if we didn’t.” His face did something weird and Derek was immediately suspicious of what he would say next, “You could say I’d be on my last leg.”

He looked so proud of himself that Derek couldn’t help but laugh. It’s like the dam broke and all three of them let loose loud guffaws. John had one of his son’s hands again and he gave it a loving little shake.

“Glad to hear you’ve still got your sense of humor, kid.” He scruffed a hand over Stiles’ head.

“I’m sure the depression will come later, I mean, I lost my fucking leg. I thought I was going to die though, like, it grabbed me up and I just knew it was over.” His eyes got this faraway look of terror before he seemingly snapped back, “But I’m alive, man. I am in so much pain but I’m alive. That’s what matters right now.”

“How’d I get so lucky to have a kid as strong as you?” Stiles turned to look at his dad and Derek, suddenly, felt like he was intruding. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, kiddo. You’ve gotta stop doing this to me, what’s the point of eating all those nasty health foods if you’re just going to scare me to death?”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. You’re still eating the nasty health food, though, don’t think that you’re off the hook.” Then it’s like it actually registers that Derek is in the room with them, “Hey big guy, I’m going to assume you’re the one that brought me here so, you know, thanks for that.”

“Anytime.” And he means it, he would save Stiles life ten times over if he needed to but, “I’d really prefer to not have to, however, so maybe you could listen to your dad for once?”

“Seriously? You’re going to gang up on me while I’m lying on my deathbed?”

Derek rolls his eyes and gives a long suffering sigh, this boy was going to be the death of him, “You’re not on your deathbed, Stiles.”

“Yeah I know, I just thought it might give me a leg up.”

Derek and the Sheriff look at each other, both incredulous. The moment was surreal, Stiles sitting there cracking bad jokes, when just yesterday Derek had thought he’d lost him. 

“Guys, a leg up?” Stiles had a big cheesy smile on his face and looked from Derek to his father, “You know, cause I don’t have one?”

\---

The next few weeks passed in a haze. Stiles spent the entire time in the hospital, slowly recovering. Derek wished he could just take him home and tuck him in close and then never let him go. Every time he had to go home to sleep or change Derek felt like he would get a call telling him Stiles was gone. He knew in his mind that Stiles was safe now, but his heart still worried.

Stiles was almost always upbeat, smiling and joking around with anyone who would give him attention but Derek knew better than to think it was all sunshine and rainbows.

Derek had caught Stiles crying at night once; he wasn’t supposed to be there but he’d forgotten his phone and the nurse had let him walk back. Stiles’ sobs were heavy and something in Derek shattered at the sound, he’d known that the boy couldn’t have been as ok as he was acting but hearing him cry now was breaking Derek’s heart.

Walking over to the bed, Derek carefully laid down beside him. Stiles turned onto his side to face him and Derek grabbed his hand, dragging the pain away, “I know it's hard now, I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, but I need you to know that I’m always here for you. Anything you need from me, you only have to ask.”

Stiles sniffled and nodded and pinned him with those wide brown eyes of his. All those feelings that Derek tried to deny and hide came rushing to the surface at that look and his breath came out quick and hard. Derek had almost lost him, this beautiful precious boy. He didn’t want to ignore his feelings anymore but he knew that he couldn’t put them on Stiles, especially not while he was still healing.

He was just happy that Stiles was alive, honestly, and he would take this, even if nothing ever happened between the two of them. He would stay by Stiles' side as long as he was allowed, regardless of the context. Stiles was pack, but Derek had to admit now that he was more than that. Fuck, Derek built a house for him.

A house where he would be moving once he was discharged from hospital. The Sheriff had been stressing about not being able to take the time off work (hospital bills were expensive, after all) and not being able to afford around the clock care for his son, so Derek offered.

“You now, I um, I’m a writer.” Derek paused, looking for the words.

“Yes, I think Stiles mentioned something like that.” The Sheriff looked confused as to why they were suddenly discussing Derek's career choice.

“No, what I mean is, I make my own hours. And I work from home.” He gestures to the napping boy, “Stiles could stay with me, the doors and hallways are wide, so he wouldn’t have to worry about maneuvering through tight spaces. I’d be there all day to help him, and he already has his own room.”

John was nodding now, a serious look on his face, “You know, son, I think I just might take you up on that offer.” He reaches over and gives Derek a pat and then looks him straight in the eye, “I know you’ll do good by him.”

Derek can’t tell if he was just threatened or thanked, but either way he nods and assures, “Yes, sir, I will.”

\---

Stiles is in the passenger seat, wiggling with excitement, “God, I’m so happy to be out of that hospital. I forgot what fresh air felt like, man. This is great.”

“Maybe we can have a picnic or something for dinner.” Derek regrets it as soon as he says it, if only for the fact that he offered a picnic like a thirty year old soccer mom.

Stiles doesn’t seem to mind though as he enthusiastically says, “Oh, dude, yes. That would be awesome, and god am I excited to not have to eat hospital food.”

“You can pick the meal, what do you want?” 

“Can we do hamburgers? I’m just craving a really big juicy hamburger right now.” Stiles mimes like he’s biting into a burger and Derek rolls his eyes. Sometimes he questioned how he had feelings for this nerd.

“We could, but we’d have to go to the supermarket. So, I’m not sure how you want to play this, you could go in with me or you could stay in the car if you want to.” Derek is worried about how Stiles will react. This is his first true test of mentally healing and Derek didn’t want to push him, “We could also go home if you don’t want to do that? I have steaks.”

“No.” He said it firm and determined, “Let’s go to the store, I’ll go in with you.”

Derek looked over at the boy next to him and saw him sitting white knuckled and ramrod straight. He wondered if he should say something but he didn’t want to break the sudden spell of fierce determination that had come over Stiles. He knew that Stiles was second guessing himself (Stiles always second guessed himself) but he also knew that he had no reason to be worried.

Derek had watched him come so far in the few weeks since the incident; going from relying on a wheelchair, being pushed around by others, then wheeling himself, then finally walking on his own with crutches. Stiles was steady and efficient and Derek didn’t need to worry about him falling over anymore.

But then there were the burns. Stiles had never once mentioned them, hadn’t made a single acknowledgement to their presence, but Derek knew they weighed on him. He’d spied, more than once, Stiles inspecting himself in the mirror with a decidedly disgusted face. It always hurt Derek to see, Stiles was so beautiful and those burns did nothing to take that beauty away.

The scar that seemed to bother Stiles most was the one on his neck, stretching up to just touch his jaw bone. The burn was tight and pulled the corner of his mouth down in a permanent frown. Derek wanted to kiss his scars, all of them, and tell him just how amazingly beautiful he thought Stiles was.

Regardless of how Stiles felt about his leg and his scars, when they got to the store he threw open the door and slipped out. His crutches touched the gravel first, then his right foot, and then he was falling in step next to Derek, the two of them making their way inside. It was surreal, to be here with Stiles, doing something so mundane after everything that had happened. They fought a dragon and Stiles barely escaped with his life.

It was nice though, the normality of it all. That’s what they needed, to get back to normal, to be able to go out and do these mundane tasks without having to worry about something coming out of the shadows to attack them.

“Alright big guy, let's get these hamburgers.” He was off, heading for the freezer aisle before Derek could even respond. 

Food shopping was uneventful, even though Stiles did get a few strange and pitying looks. He hoped that the boy hadn’t noticed but he knew better, Stiles noticed everything. When they got back into the car, Stiles rubbed his arms where the cuffs of the crutches had been.

“I thought it would be worse.” His voice was soft but Derek heard him perfectly.

“You thought what would be worse?”

“The looks.” He ran a hand along the burn on his neck, “I know what I look like, I’m not blind, but I thought it would hurt, seeing the pity in other people’s eyes. It didn’t though, not really.”

“That’s good, right?”

“It’s really good, I guess I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I feel like maybe I’m handling this too well, like at any second the spell could snap and I’d be brought down into a world of depression, just like after the nogitsune.” He took his hand away from his neck and looked down at his fingers, “For so long I would count my fingers, make sure that everything was real. That I was real. I guess I’m just scared to go back to that.”

Derek turned in his seat and grabbed Stiles’ face gently, guiding him gently to meet his eyes, “Your mind is stronger now, you know what it’s like to be knocked down, but you also know that you are a survivor, nothing ever keeps you down for long. On the off chance you do spiral, I will be right here to pick up the pieces.”

The way Stiles looked at him...Derek felt warm deep in his belly. 

\---

Stiles liked to go out in the preserve for walks. They had to follow the trails though, something they’d never done in the past. Stiles needed it now, the flat ground allowed for him to walk without fear of tripping. He’d gotten his prosthetic last week and Derek loved watching the ecstatic look that overcame him when he’d first tried it on.

“Dude, I’m like the bionic man.”

He stumbled more with the prosthetic but Derek knew it was only a matter of time until he mastered that too. One day he would be able to walk without those crutches. Stiles didn’t do anything in halves and his recovery was no different. He came home from physical therapy every day, exhausted and sore from pushing himself.

“God, my leg hurts.” Stiles groaned from the couch, “Derek, come do your pain drain thingy.”

“You should let me massage out the knots,” Derek flushed as he said it, at the thought of his hands on Stiles in such an intimate place, “Taking your pain will only be temporary, it’ll come back again once it wears off if you don’t take care of the source.”

“I don’t know man,” He touched the small portion of his leg that he still had, rubbing his fingers over the end, where it had been severed, “It’s, um, it’s not pretty.”

“I don’t mind.”

“What if I do,” There was a shimmer of tears in his eyes before he blinked them away, “It’s just, it’s ugly Derek, there’s a lot of scar tissue.”

“Stiles, will you just let me help you? There’s nothing you could show me that would ever make me think you’re ugly.”  
Stiles didn’t look convinced but he leaned back and pulled up his shorts until Derek could see his leg. Derek had never seen his injuries before, Stiles had alway kept his leg covered. The boy had been right, it wasn’t pretty, but it didn’t repulse Derek like Stiles had thought it would. Derek walked forward and pulled one of the chairs up so he could sit facing Stiles.

“Are you ready?” Derek kind of waved his hands in the air.

Leaning his head back on the couch Stiles grunted, “Yeah.”

Gently Derek put his hands on Stiles' leg. It had been amputated mid thigh and burns covered almost the entire surface. Slowly, he started to move his thumbs, working his way up the middle and then down the sides. He waited for Stiles to tell him it hurt, but the words never came, so Derek put more pressure. Stiles gave an odd, strangled sort of sound and Derek pulled his hands away quickly.

“No, no, no,” Stiles grabbed one of Derek’s hands and put it back onto his leg, the mottled flesh pushing into his palm, “That felt awesome, please keep going.” 

“I just thought I hurt you, I’ll keep going.”

Derek continued to massage the group of knots out of the muscle and all the while Stiles was moaning and groaning about how good it felt. Derek felt hot and prayed to all the gods above that he wouldn’t get a boner. That was not what Stiles needed right now.

“Oh man, you can stop now if you want, it’s not hurting anymore.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Derek felt guilting for hoping his answer would be no.

“No.”

“Then I’ll keep going.”

Things were oddly domestic after that. They woke up and Derek would make them breakfast and coffee before their morning walk, then they would come back for Stiles to do his stretches and exercises to make sure his muscles were healthy. Derek made lunch and then they would drive to Stiles’ physical therapy, maybe stop at a movie afterwards or the mall before heading back. 

Stiles always made dinner, which was more than okay with Derek because Stiles was an amazing cook. Derek looked forward to dinner every day and whatever new concoction he would be making. His therapist was happy about it too, said that having a creative outlet was conducive to healing and Derek had to agree.

Things were going really well, and Derek knew that Stiles still had problems sleeping and sometimes he stared out the window with a sad look on his face, but knew Stiles was getting better. He tried his best to help him, but there was only so much he could do about the pain in Stiles’ mind, at least he could help with the physical hurt.

\---

Derek was woken up by a scream piercing the darkness and before he knew it he was in Stiles’ room, growling, and ready to face down an intruder. There was no one though, just Stiles in bed, struggling to suck in air, with tears running down his face. Derek moved over to the bed, sitting gently, not sure if he should touch him or if that would only make it worse.

“Stiles, I’m here, it was just a dream.”

Stiles didn’t respond, just stared into middle ground breathing heavy. Derek slid forward with a hand outstretched, ever so slowly. When Stiles didn’t react he placed a hand on his back, pulling him in close until Derek could tuck his head down into his chest, essentially cradling him. The tears came then, Stiles broke out in loud sobs, his body heaving against Derek’s and Derek would be lying if he said he wasn’t crying too.

He let them sit in silence after that, knowing first hand the importance of just being there with a person and not having to explain yourself.

“Will you sleep with me?” 

“I-Yeah, I could do that.”

Stiles laid down and took Derek with him, moving them until Derek was curled around his back, flush against him. Derek’s whole body felt like it was on fire. A year ago he never imagined he’d be here, living with the boy he loved, curled around him in his bed. He knew that Stiles didn’t mean anything by it, that his question was an innocent one born out of fear. But he still hoped that maybe one day it could really be like this.

He woke up to his nose pressed right up to Stiles’ neck and a very unfortunate erection. He hoped to god that Stiles was still asleep but he could tell by his breathing that he wasn’t. He tried to move back but Stiles held on and turned in his arms.

“You know I love you, right?” The boys eyes were wide and alert despite having just woken up, “I know you love me too, but you never say anything.”

“I-” Derek didn’t know what to say, Stiles loved him? He must still be dreaming, “I’m dreaming.”

Stiles punched him hard on the arm, “There, see, not dreaming.”

Derek didn’t say anything for a long time, his mind was flying in a million different directions, “I do.” He paused and then elaborated, “Love you I mean.”

Stiles' smile was blinding and Derek couldn’t help but return it, his heart swelling, now that it was really starting to sink in. Stiles loved him. There was only a split second of consideration and then Derek couldn’t hold it back anymore, he was bursting with love for this boy.

So he kissed him. He kissed him and for a second the world stopped spinning.

Stiles kissed like he did everything else, determined and enthusiastic and just a little bit messy. Derek loved it. Derek loved him. Stiles opened his mouth and Derek followed, sliding a tongue over his lips and then inside. Derek could spend eternity doing just this.

When they were showered and dressed Stiles said to him, “I like being here.”

“I like you being here.”

“I like being with you.” Stiles looked him straight in the eyes, no hesitation, “Maybe we could be together.”

“I built this house for you.” Derek blurts. He wishes for a second that he could take it back, but Stiles doesn’t look disturbed, just fond, “I built this house for you, which means you can stay as long as you want.” Derek hoped he understood what he wasn’t saying, what he really meant by that.

“Oh I can, can I?” Stiles had a teasing tone in his voice and he hauled himself up, grabbing his crutches, to walk over to Derek. “Derek Hale, I love this house you built for me, and I would love to stay forever, if you’d have me.”

“I’d have you any way you’d like.”


End file.
